


Skin, Ink and Smoke

by BluKrown



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Drugs, Family Feels, Hand Jobs, M/M, One Night Stands, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Painplay, Porn With Plot, Smoking, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:27:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26421868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluKrown/pseuds/BluKrown
Summary: Tebanam finds himself in the company of a very alluring tattoo artist.Soon under the whiles of his charm and readily made smoke, he offers himself up to be the tattooist's prized canvas.
Relationships: Ganondorf/Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Tebanam/Fahim
Kudos: 4





	Skin, Ink and Smoke

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic is inspried by @s-kinnaly's amazing [ art](https://s-kinnaly.tumblr.com/post/185308927342/some-more-doodles-of-my-boys-teb-and-faris-along)
> 
> The Zelgan au is created by @figmentforms  
> The Zelgan babies, as well as Fahim, are created by @s-kinnaly  
> And also special thanks to @ridersoftheapocalypse for writing the main fanfic about Tebanam, which inspired this fic  
> Most of their works can be found on AO3, tumblr and twitter

Dusk in Al-Daida had the town busy with people.

Travellers were arriving and signing into accommodations. Customers were getting to their last stores before they closed. And the town's pubs and restaurants were alive with the sound of talk, laughter and clinking metal and glass.

The sky was dyed purple as the torches along the streets were lit, making the buildings almost glow yellow in contrast to the sky. Tebanam partially wished he knew how to paint, just so he could copy the sight onto canvas and preserving it. 

It was too bad Tebanam was not in the mood to enjoy such a view.

Tebanam was at a dead-end, his leads to the Garai tribe had turned up nothing but a deserted and burnt village west from town. Miserable with the loss of his last lead and from the rather disheartening sight of an old civilisation turned to ash left Tebanam in a less than happy mood.

Melancholic and more than tired, he walked the streets. Undecided on whether to call it a day and skip dinner or find something, yet be surrounded by the more than rowdy crowds which occupied all the nearby establishments.

Tebanam's eyes looked over each storefront as he passed, nothing really grabbing his attention until he was near the end of the business side of the city.

A store looking just like all the others did not catch until Tebanam's eyes lay on the sign scribbled above the door.

Tattoos.

They were uncommon in Hyrule, seen as only for criminals or barbarians. Not banned but frowned upon enough that it almost was. Tebanam had seen one or two since leaving his home but not enough to have a defined opinion on the practice. He only knew the process and it sounded painful. But Tebanam had to admit to himself that it had always interested him, mainly on the concept. 

The designs displayed in one of the windows were all beautiful. All only using black ink, the designs were simplistic yet cleverly crafted. It caught Tebanam off guard, as the tattoos he had seen up to this point were coloured and a bit more flamboyant in its presentation. These, although still easily catching any onlookers' eyes, we're very much a style that would be one of a kind to the artist themselves.

"Something catch your eye, sir?" A voice called to him nearby, making him look away from the display window.

A man stood in the doorway to the parlour, arms crossed over his unclothed chest and leaning against the stone wall as he watched the prince. He was a local race, light green coloured his skin all the way to his fingers as they shaded yellow and brown. Dark yellow horns grew from his forehead and a matching coloured tail occasionally flicked where it hid behind him. Black eyes, with no distinction between his iris and pupil, matched his short black hair. A golden hooped earring glittered at his earlobe and black tattoos marked his arms and chest, the ink delving past his trousers' waist.

Clearly, he was the owner - or at least an employee - of the store. And clearly, he was very attractive. Tebanam had taken probably a bit too long to answer as he had become too occupied in staring at the man.

"Oh, uh," Tebanam straightened, "Your shop caught my eye. I just thought the designs were interesting."

The man smiled, "Thank you, I have more of them inside if you want to have a look." His head nodding to the door behind him.

Tebanam knew this was surely a business tactic to win him over but he was interested and the handsome man was just as good to look at as the sketches. "If you wouldn't mind," He said, waiting for the man to let him through before stepping inside.

The inside was cozy, the yellow stone walls and red of the cushions and lounging chairs made for a relaxing environment that surely reassured customers. That and the smell of smoke lingering in the air. Tebanam had even coughed, his lungs inhaling the rather saturated air and making them heave.

"Sorry," The man apologised, "The pain-killer we use leaves a very distinctive smell, I was airing the place out when you arrived."

"T-That's fine," Tebanam said, his throat a bit raspy as he soon came to recover.

Now that Tebanam looked closer, he could see the hookah stands at occasional intervals. With a glass basin, a cylindrical channel pushed the desired smoke from and into the tube that leads to the mouthpiece people used to inhale from. The prince had seen them before but had never had the chance to try them, more out of not having the time rather than the worry of the effects. 

Tebanam had followed the stranger to a section of the wall near the entrance, the surface of it covered in multiple pieces of parchment with similar sketches and artworks etched into the paper. They were all very impressive and it took a moment for the Gerudo man to look over them all before one specific in specific grabbed his attention.

A drawing of a hawk, wings spread with the bird's head turned to see the profile of its beak. Its wings wide and making Tebanam look to each feather and appreciate the detail.

The design reminded Tebanam of his hawk, Atem. Which was a gift from his older brother, Ralnor, before he left Hyrule. He had sent his bird of prey off to find his dinner, planning to have him return when he got back to the inn Tebanam was residing in while he was in town.

"You like it?" The tattooist asked beside him.

Tebanam nodded, "Yes, it's beautiful."

The man sounded flattered, "Thank you, I would have to agree as well. It's one of my best pieces actually." He pulled the piece of parchment off the wall and gave it to the guest to have a closer look. "I want it to be on the person's back, the wings," His yellow finger tracing the drawing, "Would be part of both the bird and the person. It's just too bad that no one has requested it. I suppose it's not to anyone's taste."

Tebanam nodded, returning the piece to its rightful place on the wall. 

"If you don't mind me asking," The man began, furthering as Tebanam turned to him, "What is your name?"

"Sorry," Tebanam said with a guilty smile, "How rude of me. I'm Tebanam."

"Tebanam, huh?" The tattooist voiced the name, his husky tones very much suiting the prince's name as he called it. "I'm Fahim."

Tebanam was almost about to reach out his hand to shake but realised that was not part of Al-Daida customs.

"Would you like to stay for a bit, Tebanam? I have a bit of the painkiller left in one of the pipes. Perhaps we could share it?" Fahim's voice was soft, his eyes looking Tebanam up and down in such a way that it made the prince's skin ripple with goosebumps.

Feeling an air of flirtation from the man, Tebanam smiled slyly, "Aren't those for your customers?"

Fahim let out a chuckle, "Only a fool would not try out what they supply their customers."

Tebanam, not one to object and especially as such a nice-looking man was offering, accepted the invitation.

Settling down on some cushions nearby, Fahim joined him with one of the pipes. Resting the mechanism on the carpeted ground, he came to rest beside Tebanam. 

The small embers glowed in the near dark salon as Fahim tested the first breath, inhaling deeply as his chest rose with it. Smoke then lazily left Fahim’s mouth as he exhaled.

Tebanam could tell the man was used to the drug, taking in the smoke like it was the freshest of air. There was something entrancing about watching the stranger easily take the puff in and out. The smoke leaving his mouth and slowly disappearing into the already diluted air. He had to send a silent prayer to the goddesses that he could even ever partially replicate it as he was handed the mouthpiece.

He knew that it would be rough on the lungs so, braving a slow, deep breath, he waited a moment before exhaling. Perhaps his throat was dry or he exhaled too quickly as a raspy cough ruptured his chest. It was nothing too severe but Tebanam felt his cheeks burn out of embarrassment for not looking as comfortable with the vapour.

Fahim did not seem too bothered, giving a reassuring smile as he took the mouthpiece out of Tebanam’s hands gently. “Not too familiar with this?” He inquired.

Swallowing in his mouth, Tebanam guiltily shook his head. “No, not particularly.”

“It's all about pace, don’t breathe out too fast or too slow,” Fahim advised, taking the mouthpiece between his lips, eyes staying on Tebanam as he let the drug-riddled air leave his mouth in a lazy cloud.

Fahim almost coached Tebanam with the next few inhalations, encouraging him when he finally achieved a breath that did not have him coughing. By which time, the symptoms of the drug were soon growing to affect the traveller's body and mind. His fingertips felt oddly numb yet still somehow overly sensitive, his whole body soon feeling on the brink of pins and needles. His thoughts were like the mist that left his mouth, fleeting. The only solid thoughts that held strong were, to impress the handsome tattooist with his hopefully adequate use of the pipe and knowing that he was soon becoming indescribably aroused.

The two men did not really talk, apart from Fahim's occasional chuckle or remark, they were in comfortable yet stiff silence. But even so, with each huff of discoloured smoke, they seemed to closen where they sat in the closed tattoo parlour.

Tebanam could not even remember when but Fahim's hand somehow found its way to be on his arm, tracing the faintly popping veins on the inside of his arm.

"Your skin is very beautiful," The tattooist said, finishing his turn on the pipe and handing it to Tebanam. His fingers softly tracing unfamiliar shapes into the prince's tanned skin. 

Tebanam didn't know what to say to that for a moment. He had always despised his colour. After all, being half-Gerudo and half-Hyrulian had him holding onto an identity which he only shared with his siblings. The other noble children they had known had mocked and teased them for it. Saying they had the blood of a murderer in their veins. That they were dirty and didn't belong in the white bricked walls of Hyrule castle.

Even Tebanam's lover, who he had left on rather unagreeable terms. Had never much thought to mention his skin. Sure, he had said he was handsome but in a sense that had Tebanam thinking, he meant it in the standards of the Hyrulians.

"You think so?" He asked, half not even listening as his eyes wandered around the building.

"Yes," The tattooist asserted, "A tattoo would really suit you."

The smoke left Tebanam's lips, as his eyes looked around the now-familiar room. His gaze finding itself lingering on that beautiful artwork of the hawk which had fascinated him when he had first entered.

Licking his dry lips, Tebanam looked back to the artist where he lay near him. Dear goddesses, he was gorgeous. The more the smoke misted his mind, the more Tebanam wanted nothing more than to impress the man. Even if it were doing something that he would probably regret when he sobered.

"Do you think . . ." Tebanam began, ignoring the still logical part of his brain who tried to shut his mouth, "Do you think I would suit that tattoo?" Indicating with a nod of his head to the display wall.

Fahim looked to the specific artwork, then back at Tebanam. His bottom lip dragging between his teeth as his eyes surveyed him where he sat. The prince wanted to curse the man, he knew just how to make him squirm and blush.

"I think . . ." He began, moving ever so slightly nearer to him, his hand which had rested on his arm roving upwards to stop at his shoulder, "You'd be perfect for it. But . . . It can hurt, even with the drugs."

 _See? It's not worth it! Just give up while you're ahead!_ , his inner voice pleaded with him. But it was no use, his body begged for more of the man's touch and more of the smoke in his lungs. And Tebanam was never one to stop from getting what he wants.

"I can handle it," Tebanam said, smiling slyly.

Fahim grinned back, "Very well." He then got to his feet but didn't step away from where they sat, "The private room has my tools, is it fine if we move in there?"

"Sure," Tebanam said cooly, or as cooly as he mustered as his heart doubled its beat.

Walking to the back of the room, there were two doorways exiting the salon, both hiding the other side with red curtains. Fahim led the way through the curtain on the right, Tebanam just behind him.

The private room was similar to the main parlour. Red cushions covered the floors and the visible mist still lingering in the air. The only difference being that one wall had a large window of glass, yet unlike more expensively made glass, the see-through material was seeded and could only define simple shapes and colours if one were to look through it. Without the candles, the room was quite dark, the only source of light being the bright moon which managed to shine through the mangled glass.

Leaving Tebanam for a moment, Fahim returned with the hookah they had been using just a moment ago and a bag - surely containing his equipment. "Best to keep you inebriated." He explained, before lighting the candles to brighten the room and settling onto his knees on the floor to prepare his things.

"Could you get undressed then?" Fahim asked, occupied with organising his needles. "There should be towels on the table over in the corner if you need to cover yourself."

Tebanam looked to the table, a small stack of clean, folded towels ready to be used to hide a customer's modesty. But his eyes darted back to the tattooist, a mischievous thought coming to mind.

Without moving from where he stood in the room, Tebanam, very much still intoxicated from the fumes, stripped naked, leaving his clothes where they had fell on the floor. He did not feel much different without his clothes. In fact, he may have felt even warmer.

Fahim must've noticed something was off, as he looked away from his equipment to the prince. Tebanam at least expected some sort of surprise to show on the handsome man. Instead, his eyes looked the Gerudo man head to toe, a look of appreciation at the view curling his lips.

Being bare and not even bothering to cover himself up, Tebanam would surely be dying from embarrassment if he was sober. But luckily, he wasn't. A giddy shiver threatened to make him wriggle at the feeling of the other man's eyes looking over every inch of his skin but he managed to tame it, although not without feeling his heart thump loudly in his ears.

With such ease he even surprised himself, Tebanam made himself comfortable on the mattress of cushions in front of the tattooist. On his stomach, he lay his head on the side to watch the stranger. More than ready to begin.

Fahim only needed a minute or two to tinker with his needles and ink before he was ready. Before beginning, he gave the mouthpiece of the pipe to Tebanam. "I sure hope you're not sensitive to pain."

Making sure he had more smoke in his lungs, Tebanam smiled, "I might be sensitive but I'm sure with this I'll be fine." Taking another puff while Fahim settled near his chest, needles and small hammer in hand.

"Well, best to share." The tattooist said, taking the pipe out of the prince's hands and taking a drag from it as well.

Flirty words so easily came off of Tebanam's tongue, he would think he had a good amount of wit. "You sure you're sober enough to do the job?" Unconsciously licking his lips at the very sensual way he breathed out the smoke.

Fahim huffed, giving the pipe back. "Trust me, my hand is always steady."

His voice had Tebanam wanting to shiver again, his words going right down to his crotch. Luckily, Tebanam was so inebriated, it would appear he would need more than that to have his excitement show.

"First," Fahim said, the sound of a cork popping from a nozzle resounding in the small room, "The ointment. Helps weaken your skin's sensitivity as well as any reaction you might have." Pouring the liquid onto a small towel, he lay the fabric flat on his back. His hand then dragged the cloth across the scape of his shoulders, followed by his shoulder blades, then down to his lower back, wetting the prince's skin with the chilling concoction. His fingers then touched his skin, dragging over his back as he smeared the ointment in. It almost felt like a massage by how strongly his fingers pulled at Tebanam's muscles. 

Focusing first on the shoulder blades, Fahim's fingers pressed and caressed over the prince's upper back with great skill. So good in fact that Tebanam let out a soft sigh as he felt his muscles continue to relax. With most of the ointment now settling into Tebanam's skin, Fahim had not quite finished. His hands soon trailed a bit further down his spine, strong fingers sliding over the sides of his torso only to stop near his dimples. Tebanam was certain that the tattoo was not going to reach all the way down to there but he did not find a reason to object. Fahim's fingers spread as they lay over the small of the recipient's back, making Tebanam yearn for them to go just a little further down to grope his ass. 

"There," Fahim said, his voice soft as if his words were only for Tebanam's ears as he finally pulled his hands away. "Now to begin."

Tebanam's skin still felt tingly from the fumes he inhaled, but he still felt the tattooist pencil trace his lines over his back. Even just the soft lead of the tool being very sensual as it drew over and around the muscles of him back.

The prince's mind was now far gone from that salon room, too high on the smoke and Fahim's delicate touch to realise he was speaking to him. 

"Tebanam," The tattooist called, his face so close, the prince could see each individual black eyelash that curtained the black eyes. "I'm about to begin."

The Gerudo prince smiled lazily, "Go right ahead." 

Whether still playing cool or actually so numb on the painkiller to not even feel fear, Tebanam did not know. But the smile Fahim gave him made him consider covering his whole body with the damn ink.

Tebanam thought to kiss him, wrap the tattooist's lips in his and take him where he lay. But his body was weakened and sloth-like from the smoke. The prince did not follow through, but his mind most certainly did.

Fahim's hand pressed against the closest of Tebanam's shoulder blades, "Relax." He whispered and touched the mouthpiece of the pipe to the prince's lips.

With that last puff of smoke, Tebanam was finally gone.

Although his body stayed, feeling faint but sharp needle pricks of pain on his back, his mind was up in the smoke-filled air. Not tired enough to sleep but not sober enough to stay awake, Tebanam only listened to the faint chink of hammer on the head of the needle. And the occasional shuffle of the tattooist as he moved around the prince where he lay. Engraving the Atem-like tattoo in Tebanam's skin.

The prince could almost see it, the wings wide on his back that would almost flap as he flexed his muscles. 

His mother would surely kill him. 

The thought made Tebanam's mouth quirk in a smile. How he missed her. And his father. Not to mention his many brothers and sisters.

It had been nearly a year since the youngest prince had left his home to the lands beyond Hyrule, far away from home. Upset by the abduction of Jazoh Spegeil and overwhelmed by the many people who now knew his darkest secret, it was only half a day after the noble boy had left that Tebanam had his rucksack on his back and was planning to leave as soon as first light.

Of course, Ralnor and his mother knew of his plans. Queen Zelda had said she had heard about it from the kitchens, where Tebanam had ordered multiple canisters of water and non-perishable foods. Ralnor had said one of the stableboys told him, as they had prepared his horse with travelling saddle and horseshoes.

Zelda had begun a half-heartened attempt to not let him leave but she had seen the look in her son's eyes and all further objections died in her throat. Ralnor, on the other hand, had only smiled. A sad but proud smile. That was when he gave Atem. 

"He can help you hunt and he knows how to send letters in case . . ." Tebanam's older brother paused as his voice faltered for just a moment. "In case you want to send us word."

Tebanam wondered how they were all doing now. 

Coverog was surely busy being taught by father on the ways of the kingdom, while also having to care for his wife who was pregnant with her second child. Ralnor would be teaching his three daughters how to read by now. Orana had supposedly left on a pirate ship. And Kanisa was freezing but happy in the northern country named Uskar. At least, that was what Tebanam had heard in the occasional letter Atem brought back.

The prince felt a dull pain in his chest. He missed them.

From what he could tell, his family still loved him and missed him as much as he did.

Perhaps it was time for Tebanam to go home. Not for good but to at least see his family. Hug his brothers and gossip with his sisters and laugh with his father. He even missed the castrations his mother would give him when he did something reckless or stupid.

The train of thought that whirled through the clouds above towards Hyrule castle, past seas and mountains and canyons, was brought to a halt by a voice.

"Done."

Although Tebanam's eyes were open, he had not truly seen. As when he finally found the sense to look around the room where he lay, he was shocked to find the tattoo parlour filled with the sharp light of daybreak. Tebanam had laid upon the cushions, dropping in and out of a faint sleep while Fahim had worked through the night.

There was still a cloud of smoke that filled Tebanam's head as he slowly lifted his head but his body was sober. His back, thanks to the ointment and the skin never having a true memory of the needle, was raw and sensitive as he moved the muscles of his back. It would hurt for at least a few more hours but even then his skin would be sensitive to the touch for surely a few more days.

"How does it look?" Tebanam asked, looking to the tattooist where he sat beside him.

"Perfect." Fahim smiled, his eyes darting over the artwork that was now etched into Tebanam's tanned skin. The twinkle in his black eyes and a pleased smile on his lips made Tebanam, again, consider covering his whole body with tattoos, if only for the man to look at him at every inch like that. "You look good." His tone was heavy as he leaned nearer.

Fahim did not seem tired for a man who had been awake all night, in fact, he seemed almost invigorated at the sight of the new ink on Tebanam's back. The only evidence of his all-night endeavour was the shadows that darkened the green skin under his eyes.

A pang of guilt weighed heavy on his stinging shoulders. He had not even paid the man for his work, yet he had worked all through the night to finish his artwork.

"Thank you," Tebanam said, "How much was it? I have to pay you." The prince tried to sound determined, he didn't want to get swindled into an outrageous price.

Fahim's smile lingered as he refused the prince's offer, "No need. You've already done that."

He turned slightly where he sat and picked up a large hand mirror and gave it to his customer. "Look at it."

Not moving from where he lay, fearful to bring any more unwanted pain, Tebanam looked at the tattoo's reflection.

It was perfect. Just as Fahim had said.

Wings wide along his shoulders, the hawk was mid-soar along Tebanam's back. The head of the bird and its sharp beak was at the top of his back and would easily hide behind the collar of a tunic or shirt. The tail feathers reached the end of his chest. With every breath, the hawk seemed to breathe too.

Fahim could tell Tebanam loved the tattoo, his voice close as he too admired the inked bird on his back through the mirror.

"Seeing my masterpiece there on your beautiful back is more repayment than anything else." Fahim murmured, his voice cool and like honey in Tebanam's ear.

Tebanam was surprised by Fahim's adoration of the needle and ink but he was more than a little bit happy that the praise was aimed at him.

Tebanam's eyes appreciated the local artist's face again.

Goddesses he was handsome and nothing like any man the prince would've seen in Hyrule. And it made him want to kiss him and feel those attentive hands touch everywhere.

"Surely . . ." The Gerudo prince began, giving his lips a lick. "There is some way I could repay you." His hand reached out and covered one of the tattooist's own. 

Fahim's twinkle of artistic euphoria changed to one of mischief. "Oh? And what would that be?"

Tebanam took a chance. Holding his breath, he kissed the tattooist on the mouth.

The prince had the impression that his forwardness would take a second to be received and accepted by Fahim. But clearly his attempts at flirting had given the tattooist enough of a clue at what he was about to do. Because when Tebanam had took that risk, Fahim was more than ready to reciprocate.

He was a really good kisser, Tebanam realised abashedly. But even if he did not mind Fahim taking the lead in the enveloping and caressing of their lips with his expertise, it made Tebanam feel a quick flash of fear that maybe his own technique was not on par.

But as the seconds turned into minutes, Fahim did not pull away to criticize or tease Tebanam on his skill. In fact, Fahim wanted more as one of his hands went to hold at Tebanam's chin. Holding him in place as he deepened it with a bold poke of his tongue at Tebanam's lips. Tongues soon connected as lips had done. Tebanam soon shifted as his heartbeat began to thump loudly in his ears while warmth travelled down his body.

Remembering Fahim's kind yet firm hands on his back earlier as they pressed the ointment into his skin had Tebanam yearning for those hands to touch everywhere else. The very thought of it had him trying to raise his body up from where he lay, only the sting of his freshly inked tattoo made Tebanam outwardly hiss, pausing the kiss.

"S-Sorry," Tebanam muttered as he tried to ignore the pain and sit up, "Just give me a second."

Fahim's laugh was soft and so was his hand as he helped Tebanam go onto his side. "Don't push yourself."

"I'm not pushing myself, I'm just getting comfortable." The prince said, trying to sound confident as his skin burned. 

He now lay on his side, one of his arms on the ground with his head resting in the palm of his hand.

Fahim let out another laugh, soft like smoke. "Well, you're more comfortable in more ways than one I see."

Tebanam did not quite know what the tattooist meant, but when he followed Fahim's eyes downwards he soon understood.

The prince was not erect but he was not soft either. 

Tebanam silently cursed himself for forgetting to at the very least try to restrain it. Clearly the smoke from the pipe still clogged his brain.

Tebanam felt his face burn, not by needle and ink but embarrassment. Opening his mouth he was about to make up some excuse or, at the very least, apologize but his words died in his throat when Fahim spoke.

"Don't worry, I'll make you even more relaxed." His voice was that same low husk that made a shiver run down Tebanam's spine.

The prince tried for a confident smirk, "By all means."

Fahim's lips were against him in an instant, slow and fervent as before. But it did not last long.

Fahim soon came to lay by Tebanam's side. And he could soon hear the tattooist's breaths grow heavier and heavier, their lips needing to separate periodically to take in air.

To keep Fahim interested and to encourage him to go further, Tebanam let his teeth nip at his bottom lip. It may have been the prince's imagination but he believed it worked as he felt Fahim's smile against him and the hand at his chin begin to rove.

Fingers like the softest of vapours, the tattooist's hand brushed down over the side of his body. Trailing from neck to waist and by his hips, Fahim pulled at the prince's waist to press against his own. Legs brushed him and he felt a similar bulge hidden under the trousers Fahim still wore on his person.

A low groan came from Tebanam, too aroused to force down, while his own hands clutched onto the Fahim's sides too in an effort for more of his body to touch his.

It felt like a millennium until Fahim's clever fingers touched his now aching shaft and Tebanam could not stop the faint groan that escaped him. The free hand held Tebanam's chin, forcing him to stay at the tattooist's lips as the other wrapped around his length.

Firm but not tight, Tebanam was certain Fahim had done this all before. He moved his hand up and down the shaft, occasionally squeezing the head and taunting the slit with a stray thumb. Tebanam was quickly he was peaking, it had been months since he had any encounter and just Fahim being . . . Fahim. It was not helping at all.

"F-Fuck," Tebanam groaned, grasping onto Fahim's forearm to encourage him to quicken.

The tattooist did not seem to care for appeasing Tebanam's need. His pace tauntingly slow, dragging a whimper or grunt for each pull at the shaft.

Tebanam's hips soon pressed into Fahim's grip, wanting more of the warm touch. Now, mind blurred with lust instead of smoke, Tebanam did not have much concern for seeming desperate. 

Tebanam was nearing the cusp, slowly but gradually, his mouth hanging open as lewd noises continued to come out. "Fahim I-I'm close, please."

Then suddenly, the hand was gone.

Tebanam let out a faint whimper, his cock almost saw by the abrupt halt in his gratification. Before he could ask or maybe even get angry at Fahim in stopping, the tattooist got up onto his knees and sat. Legs crossed, Fahim only smiled as he spoke.

"You said you'd repay me, right? You wouldn't want to finish too quickly do you?"

Tebanam tried to calm his breaths, although his chest still heaved. He was right, he didn't want to finish now and miss what might be more than just an awkward handjob. So Tebanam shook his head.

"Good," Fahim murmured, "Now come over here and help me." And patted his knee.

Tebanam gulped, his eyes trailing on the obvious bulge in Fahim's pants. Only the smallest of guilty thoughts flying by as he realised the tattooist had probably not touched himself up until this point. 

So the prince rolled back on his stomach before lifting up his torso to hang over Fahim's lap. With no objections uttered, Tebanam knew he had the go-ahead. His fingers shook as he began to untie the binding of Fahim's trouser's body still giddy from arousal and coupled with the nerves of what he was about to do. 

Fahim's length sprung out from its restraints once there was an opening and Tebanam was not at all disappointed. A good and manageable size coloured a light soft green like the rest of Fahim's skin. 

"Go on then," Fahim urged, one hand going through the prince's hair.

Tebanam gave an experimental lick to the head of the red flushed head, tasting the familiar salty droplets that dribbled from the tip. Hearing the faintest of gratifying huffs, Tebanam continued. Taking the tip into his mouth, he softly sucked it. One hand bracing on the group to keep him upright and the other taking a soft grip around the base of Fahim's shaft.

The prince would not admit it, but he wasn't the best at blowjobs. Sure, he would gladly do it but he would not say his main bedtime trick was making love with his mouth. However, he had a technique and with the soft chorus of encouraging sounds coming from Fahim, he knew he was doing something right.

Tebanam began to move his head, taking in small increments of Fahim's length at a time. The still untouched base being comforted by his hand. His tongue welcomed the bottom side into his mouth and he occasionally hollowed his cheeks as he pulled his mouth away, making the crudest of noises on the way.

The hand at Tebanam's head did not push, per say, but encouraged Tebanam to take more and more inside him and with enough time he eventually took all of Fahim's cock in his mouth. Tebanam now looked up, watching the tattooist grit his teeth to stop any open mouth moans. 

"Good, t-that's it." Fahim encouraged, his unused hand lifting to his mouth to lick the digits, covering them in his own saliva before scaping down the planes of Tebanam's back. "Allow me."

Tebanam, mouth full, tilted his rear upwards as best as he could. More than happy to feel those fingers just where he wanted them.

Fingers warmed by Fahim's saliva, he circled Tebanam's rim until the entrance was slick. And when the tattooist seemed satisfied, he carefully pushed a finger inside. Tebanam let out a low groan, the noise surely feeling wonderful on the shaft inside his mouth as Fahim let out a moan of his own as his finger began to move.

It had been a while since Tebanam had felt a hand, whether his own or someone else's near there. Usually, when arousal struck him, he was quick and concise. What with being busy exploring the mysteries of his ancestry and just not feeling up to waisting up to an hour gratifying himself, he hadn't touched himself there in ages. 

Although Tebanam would love to just pounce on Fahim and get to the final act, knowing Fahim cared to prepare him made him more than happy to please him.

The finger inside him was just as experienced as he had imagined it, finding his prostate with ease and pressing against it with each push. It was not long before Fahim then added another. And by then, Tebanam's breaths were now out of pace and heaving, nose flaring as he still persisted in taking the lot of Fahim inside him.

His rear wriggled, shaky with pleasure as the fingers effortlessly unravelled him and whines and moans continued to vibrate in his throat.

The third finger was inside him and Tebanam, not even touching his own shaft, was getting close again. Blissfully uncaring that his technique was becoming sloppy as the fingers gratified him.

Mouth now too occupied with gasps and whines to keep Fahim fully inside his mouth, Tebanam licked and sucked on the shaft and tip. His hand doing as best a job he could. "F-Fahim," Tebanam whined, his tongue dragging over the head. "Mmph- I-I'm almost - hah - there."

"We can't go having that," Fahim muttered, slowing the scissoring, thrusting fingers before pulling them out.

Tebanam did not stop the soft whimper at the feeling of the emptiness inside him. Although comforted by the indication that he would be filled so much better in a meer few moments.

"H-How would you like me?" Tebanam asked boldly, desperate to keep things moving.

Fahim's smile was warm and wide, his eyes looking from Tebanam's face to his back. The tattoo still stung but it felt almost pleasant as the slight bit of pain usually did during sex.

"Hm," Fahim hummed, "I would very much like for you to be on top of me. Although with how sore you're back might be we can do something else."

"N-No, I'll be fine," Tebanam answered quickly, the image rooted in his mind. 

Fahim looked to Tebanam again, silently checking that he was serious. He seemed satisfied. "Very well. Usually, I wouldn't tell customers to exert themselves but . . ." He gave a faded smile. "I wouldn't want to spoil my customer's fun after all."

His words were low and husky again, oh he would have fun alright.

Tebanam gingerly sat up. "Lie down then."

Fahim obliged, taking up the space Tebanam had once lied on with his head resting on a pillow. The prince then crawled above him, pushing Fahim's pants down his legs and - with his help - tossing them away into a corner.

Tebanam was about to mount him facing towards the tattooist but Fahim stopped him with a hand at his arm. 

"Would you mind turning around? I like that view much better." 

Tebanam thought it was an odd request but the thought of Fahim revelling in the sight of Tebanam taking him all in kept his mouth shut.

"Sure." The prince muttered with his own attempt at a Fahim-like smile. 

Around he went, back facing Fahim. Tebanam looked down and saw, to his silent delight, that Fahim's cock was already shining with Tebanam's saliva from earlier. So, without much delay, Fahim held his length steady as Tebanam slowly sunk down on top.

Tebanam did not usually receive, maybe because the handsome sex workers, merchants, travellers and strangers presumed he liked to give due to his height and overall muscular physique. And in a way, he did prefer it. At least then he did not have to worry about preparing beforehand. But there was something special about taking, being filled to the brim and, on most occasions, giving the reigns to the dominant partner to do with you as he pleased. Although Fahim's hands held a firm grip on his hips, in this position, Tebanam had control and he did not much mind it.

Tebanam let his hips lift carefully, letting the head of Fahim's cock drag along the walls just as his fingers had done earlier. Fuck it felt good, and Tebanam could tell Fahim was enjoying it too. Fingers squeezing at his sides as a languid sigh came from behind him.

Sinking down, sheathing all of Fahim inside, Tebanam saw stars as Fahim pressed to his prostate again. The prince keened as a warm shiver travelled up his spine.

Tebanam began a slow pace, being out of practice in this position and overall wanting to adjust to the new position so as not to finish too soon. His hips lifted and dropped, as well as rolling from time to time for extra measure. His breaths, again, were soon heavy and his panting was very often interrupted with a moan.

Tebanam braced himself by holding onto Fahim's outstretched legs, ensuring Fahim's view was just that little bit more enjoyable as he arched his back.

"Fuck your gorgeous." Fahim murmured. His hands, still holding strong, travelling up Tebanam's chest. Tebanam let out a whimper, both being pleased by the tattooist's praise but also as Fahim's fingers carefully touched the raw skin of his tattoo.

Out of practice, Tebanam was soon growing exhausted. Although still within bliss, his legs and arms soon shook from strain and weariness.

"F-Fahim," Tebanam called, trying to look over his shoulder to the tattooist. "C-Can we move?"

Fahim, from what Tebanam could see, had been staring earnestly at the tattoo. Watching the prince's shoulders wriggle and stretch and cause the tattoo to ripple. It took a moment but he soon came out of his reverie. 

"Alright. Get off for a second." 

Tebanam pulled his hips to a halt before tugging himself off Fahim's cock. Tebanam's own length twinged with grief at the loss as he lifted off of Fahim's legs to let him move.

Fahim got to his knees, soft fingers sliding up Tebanam's back before he gave a kind kiss to the prince's shoulder. 

"Hands and knees if you would." He whispered right at his ear. Tebanam only nodded, going into position, he looked over his shoulder to watch Fahim.

The tattooist rubbed his own hand along the shaft, eyes admiring Tebanam's rear and back again. Biting his bottom lip, Fahim sheathed himself inside Tebanam's entrance once more with a low grunt.

Now with the reins in Fahim's hands, the tattooist seemed ready to end it. Striking up strong and deep thrusts. His hips slapping against Tebanam's asscheeks he fucked him.

Tebanam's cock ached, needing attention. The prince, although closening, could tell that Fahim would reach his end far before Tebanam's, at least from what he could tell. In spite of the fact that Fahim's thrusts were as powerful and satisfying as when they started, Tebanam could feel the fingers at his waist squeezing and could hear Fahim's breaths become more like panting with each second. Moving a hand under himself, Tebanam took his own length in his hand, easing the attention his body needed.

"I'm c-close," Fahim grunted, one hand lifting to touch Tebanam's freshly-inked back again.

Tebanam moaned at the faint pain, his hand desperately quickening it's work as he too neared the cusp.

Soon enough, Fahim's hips buckled. His thrusts sputtering to a halt as Tebanam felt the tattooist released inside him. Tebanam whined, so stimulated with the sudden warmth that filled his insides that he shortly after spilled into his own hand.

The two men fell quiet, faint, heavy breaths, the only sound as they took their time coming down from cloud nine.

In time, Fahim pulled his gradually softening cock out and sat back. Tebanam felt a slight sense of pleasure as he felt some of Fahim's cum dribble out of him.

"Well," Fahim said with a lazy smile on his lips, "I think that more than makes up for the tab."

Tebanam let out a wry laugh. "Pleasure doing business with you." He then sat down, combing the loose hair back into the small bun at the back of his head.

"Be sure to come back for another tattoo. I would more than happily have you as my canvas." Fahim continued, eyes straying over Tebanam's form.

"Noted," Tebanam answered with a weary smile.

  
  


"Tebanam Zel Dragmire! What in the name of the goddesses is that?!"

Tebanam jumped but did not turn around to look to the voice. He knew well who it was. "Oh no." He whispered.

His mother, Queen Zelda, stormed towards him from the other side of the bedchamber to behold in horror what stretched across his back.

"When did you get this?!" Zelda questioned, her hands touching the now embedded ink. 

"U-Um . . . About three months ago?" Tebanam answered tentatively, fearing just one misplaced word would deserve him castration.

"And you were not going to tell us?!" Zelda shouted, near to shrill now.

"W-Well . . ." Tebanam began. In all honesty, he wasn't going to tell her. Knowing his mother's nature Tebanam was going to guard his literal back for life so as to never got through the surely horrific tongue-lashing he would get for it. "I was going to tell you eventually."

Another lie. He was probably going to tell his siblings or even his father. But his mother? What a mistake.

Tebanam had arrived at Hyrule castle in the late afternoon. Clothing scuffed from a life of travelling through all types of weather had him being ushered up to his old bedchambers as soon as his mother laid eyes on him - of course after she had cried and held him first. Tebanam had gone about changing while Zelda fussed around the abandoned bedroom, noting the dust and faint smell of mold. It had slipped his mind not to go into the bathroom or at least ask his mother to leave, so he had shown his nude back and here he was.

"What is it, mama?" Orana called, poking her head out from the connected bathroom. Where she had been unpacking the rather dirty contents of Tebanam's rucksack.

"Yes, what did Tebanam do?" Ralnor inquired, as well. Having been at the far end of the room and giving Atem some attention. "He's only been here for five minutes mother, surely he hasn't done anything-"

Obviously, with his mother shrieking at him, Tebanam had not yet covered the tattoo. So when his two siblings caught sight of it, both of their eyes widened.

"Woah!" Orana gasped, moving closer to admire it.

"Impressive," Ralnor admitted as he followed his sister.

"Where did you get this?" Orana asked, getting a closer look.

"Al-Daida. It's a pretty popular custom over there."

"Well, not _here_ it isn't!" Zelda retorted furiously.

"Oh, what are you shouting about Zelda?" King Ganondorf called as he entered through the main door. A plate stacked with the castle's freshly baked pastries and newly born fruits.

"Look at it! Our son got a tattoo, Gan!" 

"Really?" Ganondorf answered with surprise. Turning to see two of his children crowding around his youngest son. 

"Well?!" She spluttered, clearly expecting Ganondorf to be just as furious as she was.

Ganon stretched his neck to catch a proper look at the tattoo before raising his hand in a thumbs up. "Nice tattoo, son!"

Tebanam grinned, "Thanks, Papa!" 

"GAN?!" Zelda exclaimed in exasperation.

"Since when have you been interested in tattoos?" Orana asked, stepping away from her baby brother's back to let Ralnor have a turn.

"Yes, I do recall you not being too fond of pain," Ralnor muttered, speaking over the growing row between their parents.

"Well, you know . . ." Tebanam said shiftily.

Orana gasped, "Don't tell me, someone forced you to do it?!"

"What? No! Nothing like that."

"He probably did on a dare." Ralnor offered up with a sly smile.

"No!" Tebanam spluttered. "I did it out of my own free will. I paid for it and everything!"

"Well, it was certainly worth the money," Orana said with a smile. "It really is beautiful."

"Yes," Ralnor agreed.

Tebanam showed a sheepish grin. "He was very good. Steadiest hand in all the city."

**Author's Note:**

> am I the only ne that thinks tattoo artists have a thing for looking at thier own artwork while having sex? . . . no? . . . just me? . . . ok.
> 
> Please give a kudos and comment, it keeps me writing more :)  
> @BluKrown on twitter/tumblr


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